


Kissing 101

by RockSaltandCherryPie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: At school, Caught, Kissing, Kissing Lessons, M/M, Sibling Incest, Weecest, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-13 00:49:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2130798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockSaltandCherryPie/pseuds/RockSaltandCherryPie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Maybe Sam and Dean trying to hide it at school but then someone finds out</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kissing 101

Sam's started seeing this girl. She's cute. Got a blonde ponytail and apparently she's on the Geek Squad — or the Mathletes or whatever they're called with Sam. Dean caught on when Sam started seeing her after school hours and waved to her during lunch and when he got all defensive when Dean tried to talk about her.

"C'mon, man, you can tell me," Dean prods on their way back to the motel they've decided to call home for the month, hand on the wheel. He keeps glancing between Sam and the road ahead. "You two _done the dirty_ yet?" Dean smirks like he's amused with himself and the situation but deep down he's unsettled. He doesn't like the way Sam looks when he's not telling him something.

"What?" Sam's voice squeaks, still not quite through puberty, and he shifts uncomfortably on the leather seat. "No, Dean, come on..."

"Hope you crazy kids are playing safe now..." Dean puts on a mock authoritative voice, kind of like their father, then smirks.

Sam shoots him a bewildered glare. "Dean, it's not like that. We're just... friends. I mean, we haven't even kissed." Sam shifts again and mumbles something under his breath.

"What was that?" Dean asks him, leaning his ear in but watching the road.

"I _said_ , I don't even know how," Sam replies in an exaggerated voice. He looks annoyed but Dean notices that his eyebrows curl up a little as he looks ahead and Dean knows that that means he's ashamed or worried and trying to hide it.

" _Awww_ ," Dean teases, because he's the older brother and that's how it goes.

Sam just says "shut up," and rolls his eyes.

 

Dean thinks about what Sam said about not knowing how to kiss probably too many times in the next few days. His first reaction was to tell him how, the right techniques, what not to do (like drown your partner in spit for instance), but he thought that might get uncomfortable really fast. So instead he pretends to forget all about it.

 

~

 

Sam promised Sarah he'd walk her home after school. He doesn't know why but he's nervous as hell when he sees her walking up to him, ponytail bobbing, one hand clutched to the strap of her backpack. She's like a sketch or a black and white photograph — he'd almost rather just look at her instead of talk to her. She's done her growing, it seems, unlike him who's still got knobby knees and thin wrists. He's shorter than her, too, which is what makes him uncomfortable when he thinks about kissing her. He's the guy, right? He's supposed to be tall. When would he be tall, damn it?

It wasn't fair.

He marvels over the fact that someone as pretty as Sarah could actually be talking _to_ him about the things _he_ likes that he almost forgets to answer when she asks him something. Usually girls like this were all over _Dean_.

Dean would know what to say. He was better with girls. Actually, he was better at everything. Well, everything but math.

 _Oh god,_ there's Sarah's house and she's shuffling her feet in the drive and he's got like T minus three seconds before he says or does something but he really doesn't want to kiss her so he just nods awkwardly. She leans over and suddenly her lips meet his cheek and she had to friggin _bend_ her neck. Sam feels heat rush to his face and he offers her a lopsided smile before he walks away.

 

Sam slams the door to the motel and tosses his bag on the ground. Dean's got his feet kicked up and is eating something junky out of a bag. There's something on the TV but Dean quickly turns it off.

"Where the hell were you?" He throws his legs over the bed and the bag crinkles as he shuts it.

"Told you," Sam grumbles and then goes into the mini kitchen to wash his hands. Dean's behind him before he even gets the soap on them.

"No, you didn't. I was waiting for you after school, you never showed."

"I just walked Sarah home, that's it. No need to go all Dad on my ass," Sam counters, toweling off his hands and turning around. Dean blocks the way when he tries to pass.

"Dean, come on. I'm not in the mood," Sam complains.

"You're supposed to tell me these things, Sam. Y'know, so I'm not thinking something might've happened to you?" Dean tries to play like he's angry but Sam could tell he was worried.

"I did, you just weren't listening." Sam's tired and annoyed and his shoulders feel heavy. He pushes past Dean and decides to take a shower just because he wants to be alone.

 

~

 

"Sam, why don't you come on out of there?" Dean asks, because Sam's been in the bathroom for just over an hour and the water stopped running a long time ago.

"No," a little voice responds from the other side.

Dean sighs. "You gonna tell me what's going on?"

"She kissed me, Dean."

Dean's eyes widen in amusement but something stirs in his gut that makes him shift his weight uncomfortably. "Damn, Sammy, look at you!" He offers from outside the door.

The door opens slowly, and Sam's standing there, shoulders slumped.

Part of Dean wants to know everything and the other part doesn't want to hear a single word. So Sammy's had his first kiss. He can't believe it. "I can see you enjoyed it," Dean notes sarcastically.

Sam looks like he doesn't know what to say. He tosses his eyes around trying to find words. "I mean, not _kissed_ kissed... Just on the cheek... but it was... weird. And not a good weird."

Dean relaxes and leans against the doorframe. "Why's that? You don't like this girl?"

Sam shrugs. "Well, yeah... I mean, as a friend... I just... I don't know."

Dean waits for more.

"I guess it didn't feel the way I thought it would..." He looks up at Dean. "Y'know?"

Dean shrugs. He doesn't know why but he's never been more relieved in his life. There's a very small obscure part of him, deep down, that's selfish when it comes to Sam, always has been. He's innately bothered by the fact that he'd have to share Sam with some stranger who barely knows him. It's not really normal to think that way, Dean knows, but neither's a lot of things their family does, so what the hell.

"You've kissed a lot of girls, right?" Sam sits on the edge of the bed that's right there and contemplates.

Dean strolls over. "To put it lightly, yeah."

Sam makes a face at first but then looks down. "I was thinking... I don't know... maybe..." Sam pauses and picks something off his pants.

"What?" Dean asks.

"Like, maybe... maybe you can teach me..." He says it so quietly it's almost indistinguishable.

Dean blinks but he's pretty fucking sure what Sam said.

"Or something," he adds like it's no big deal.

"What, you mean like _teach you_ teach you?" Dean's voice sounds loud and big compared to Sam's.

Sam shrugs but his eyes look worried, assessing Dean's reaction.

"No way, Sam," Dean says immediately, almost out of sheer natural reaction, but the look on Sam's face makes him wish he could take it back. Obviously Dean had been thinking the same thing, or as far as his right mind would allow, but hearing Sam say it out loud was something else entirely.

Sam turns his back to Dean, lying on his side on the bed, and all he says is "fine, whatever."

 

~

 

Dean hasn't been able to forget or even pretend to forget about what Sam said for the whole school day after that. They agree to meet by the bleachers after school because Sam wants to practice his outside-outside maneuver and this field's the only one for miles.

The field's empty when they get there, school's been out for a while. Dean sits on the steel bench a few rows up and watches Sam's legs work the ball. He keeps losing control of it and Dean can see him getting visibly more and more frustrated. He tries a final time but it rolls a little out of the reach of his ankle and he kicks it hard, finally letting out all of his anger. It bounces and then rolls all the way to the other end of the field.

Dean sighs, rubbing his temple. "Sam, c'mere."

Sam's watching the ball slip away in the distance, his back to Dean.

"Sam."

Sam reluctantly saunters over, running a hand through his damp brown hair, then climbs the bleachers. He stands in front of Dean two steps down and folds his arms. He's looking anywhere but at Dean.

"Hey," Dean says, trying to catch his eyes. "I'll teach you." Even the thought has his skin bubbling with nerves and anxiety, but he knows it has to be done. Would be done, sooner or later.

Sam finally looks at him, actually it's more like a glare of disbelief, and unfolds his arms. "Are you serious?"

Dean nods, raising his brows in a gesture of honesty.

"And you're not gonna be all weird about it?" Sam questions, and Dean feels like laughing because this whole time he thought he was the freak and Sam would be weirded out, not the other way around. Instead, he shakes his head and says "c'mon." He pats the space next to him and Sam climbs over a row and sits down, facing Dean.

He's watching Dean and now his whole energy's changed. His eyes are wide and alert, shoulders perking up, body nervously rigid.

"Okay," he says.

Dean shifts in, then says "well first, you gotta come closer" with a smile because Sam's not moving.

Sam obeys, shifting in. "Sorry," he says, and he licks his lips and shuts his eyes right away because they're too close now for it not to be a little awkward. He's smiling, or trying really hard not to smile, and Dean's inches from his face. Sam's doing this weird thing with his mouth like he's mentally preparing himself and holding back thunderous laughter at the same time. He's raising his brows now, waiting, and Dean doesn't know why he's stalling or not _saying anything_ but there's something about Sam being so eager and obedient like this that's giving him a sick thrill and desire to prolong the moment as long as possible.

"What're you doing?" Dean asks quizzically and squishes Sam's mouth in his fingers to hold it friggin _still_ for one second.

"Sorry," Sam says again and he smiles wide this time like he can't contain it.

"Stop laughing," Dean says but he's smiling too. Oh well, Sam's still got his eyes shut.

"Okay." Sam's mouth goes lax in his grip and Dean thumbs over his soft lips.

"There you go," Dean says quietly.

"Are you supposed to keep your eyes shut?" Sam asks, voice almost a whisper and it cracks a little in the middle.

"If you want..." Dean just watches Sam's face because he's got such gentle features and Dean remembers that he's still so young and he can't help but feel a twinge of guilt about what they're doing and what he agreed to. They're _brothers._ Dean's pretty sure this isn't about a lesson anymore, if it ever was.

"If it makes it... easier..." Dean adds softly and he knows Sam knows what he means.

But Sam opens his eyes then, apprehension making them full and still and Dean leans in. It's only after their lips meet for the first time that they both let their eyes fall shut again.

Sam's lips are warm and soft and they make Dean's blood tingle in a way no girl's ever have. He briefly thinks, _is this how it's supposed to feel?_ and _I'm Sammy's first kiss_ but it's ridiculously overwhelming so he puts those thoughts aside. He keeps kissing him, silently instructing him with his lips and he feels Sam slowly mimicking the movements he's doing, catching on quickly.

"Loosen up," Dean adds between kisses, noting that Sam seems too calculative.

Sam responds, his lip muscles relaxing and Dean feels a difference right away.

"Good," he whispers. "Good, Sammy..." Dean slips his tongue in a little on the next kiss, feeling Sam's wet mouth inside briefly. Sam smiles again, and Dean kisses his parted lips.

"What?" Dean asks him, and he's only now realized that Sam's hand is on his knee.

"It feels... funny."

Dean pulls back and Sam's got this happy dazed kind of look on his face, he almost looks high.

"But... a good kind of funny," Sam adds, and he's waiting for more so Dean shakes his head and leans in again. He kisses him with more vigor and Sam moans at the contact.

There isn't really much instructing going on anymore, not that there really ever was, and Dean blames himself, of course. He knew this would happen. He's got a lump in his throat preventing him from speech. Sam doesn't seem to mind, and is taking every little thing Dean's doing as wordless direction, catching on and changing his technique.

Dean massages Sam's tongue a little more and Sam parts his lips for him each time Dean presses the kiss together.

After several more minutes Sam breaks the kiss and looks down briefly. "Crap."

"What?"

Dean's more aware of Sam's hand on his knee now. It just stays there, unmoving and warm, and Dean's not even sure if Sam notices.

"Nothing," Sam says and shakes his head, leaning in again.

Dean smiles. "I think I know." He kisses him again and this time they're both so in synch their whole bodies start moving with it.

"Yeah?" Sam says in between, and his hand slides up Dean's thigh. However unconscious the gesture is, Dean's skin's coming alive, his dick waking up and he knows that's what's happening to Sam too. "I feel all... tingly."

Dean hums in his mouth in response and places his hand on Sam's knee, caressing with his thumb.

"Dean?" Sam asks after another few minutes.

"Yeah?" Dean keeps kissing his soft pink lips because he can't get enough somehow.

"Should we... go somewhere... else?" Sam's saying between kisses and the thought makes Dean excited. "Like... the car... maybe...?"

Dean smiles like he's got no worries in the world. "Nah," he says. "We can stay right here." And he doesn't care. Let the world watch. Let the world know Sam's his.

He pulls Sam onto his lap so that he's straddling Dean's thighs, lean legs parting and Dean can finally _hold on_ to him like he's been dying to do. Sam gasps a little but grins down at him, cupping Dean's face and leaning down to kiss him again and now he's like a pro. Always was a fast learner. Dean slides his hands up Sam's bare thighs and cups his ass with spread palms, pulling him closer still and they're practically chest to chest now. Sam keeps slowly rolling his hips and now that they're this close, Dean can feel the heavy weight between Sam's legs that keeps pushing up against his stomach and it's only making him hotter. Dean's fingers dig in to Sam's shorts, wanting to feel every section of smooth flesh on his baby brother's body.

"Sam?!" It's a girl's voice. High and squeaky and most definitely appalled.

Sam jumps a little in Dean's lap and spins around, swinging his leg immediately off of Dean and attempting to compose himself.

"Sarah--!"

Dean's so stunned he doesn't know what the hell to do or think. And the girl's staring between them both with the most horrified look on her face, one hand clutching the strap of her backpack. _What the hell was she even doing there?_ Dean can't wrap his head around the odds. For what feels like forever, there's a sickening silence as the gravity of the situation sinks in. But then the girl talks.

"Isn't that your brother...?" Her face is all screwed up, her voice trembling.

Sam looks between Dean and Sarah but doesn't know what to say. The air feels like it weighs ten thousand pounds. "Well..."

"You're disgusting," she shakes her head and Dean stands. She backs away quickly and follows the track to the end of the field where she exits onto the street and doesn't even look back.

Sam's just staring in a silent daze, but he doesn't look too upset or freaked out. It just looks like it's too much for him to take in that he's decided not to bother caring. His expression's blank, but Dean can see his eyes watering.

"C'mon," Dean says softly, and they both walk across the field to the car.

 

~

 

"You okay?" Dean asks Sam after several minutes of silence on the road.

Sam's looking out the window, shoulders slumped, eyes glazed over. He doesn't answer.

"Sam?"

"Are we disgusting?" he asks Dean in a small voice, finally looking over. His brows are drawn up, big eyes curious but not entirely ashamed.

"Nah," Dean reassures after looking between Sam and the road a few times. He doesn't really believe it, but he can't let Sam know he's not sure what the hell's going on here.

"Kay," Sam takes everything Dean says as the final word, the solid truth. That's all he needs.

 

When they get back to the motel, Dean notices that Sam doesn't seem that upset anymore.

"I mean, what was she even doing there, anyway?" Dean wonders out loud as he shrugs out of a layer and stuffs it in his duffle.

"I completely forgot but there was a Mathletes meeting after school today. She was coming from that." Sam's sitting on the edge of the bed taking his shoes off.

"Oh... Well, I'm sorry that had to happen, Sammy..." Dean says as he sits on the bed opposite and watches Sam busying himself with his shoelaces.

"S'okay," he says simply. "It's no big deal, really."

Dean searches Sam's face to see if he's lying or being sarcastic but he's none of those things. He's actually quite relaxed. After he's done with his shoes he shifts up on the bed, laying back on his elbows and bending his knees up, letting them knock together a few times. Dean's eyes travel up his bare thighs to where his shorts begin and he instantly wants to hold him and feel him again. When Dean's eyes reach Sam's face he's already looking directly at him, silently anticipating.

"So..." Sam says, and bites his lip in a way that makes Dean's stomach flip-flop. "Do you want to continue our lesson?"

 

END.


End file.
